


skin deep

by princessoftheworlds



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Begging, Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, Dom Ianto Jones, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Verbal Humilation, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, Size Kink, Stomach Bulge, Stuffing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:01:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25364284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessoftheworlds/pseuds/princessoftheworlds
Summary: So the thing about Jack is that he is, ultimately, a hedonist; he wants the higher pleasures and luxuries of life. When given an excuse to be selfish, Jack will become completely self-indulgent, and Ianto Jones, being completely smitten with Jack Harkness, will indulge him.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 12
Kudos: 97





	skin deep

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what this is. Actually, I do know what it is. Don't be fooled by the title or summary; this is pure, pure filth. Beta'd but also kinda not?
> 
> I also definitely did not spend half an hour waffling over tags for this. Hope it's not overtagged lmao.

So the thing about Jack is that he is, ultimately, a hedonist; he wants the higher pleasures and luxuries of life. When given an excuse to be selfish, Jack will become completely self-indulgent, and Ianto Jones, being completely smitten with Jack Harkness, will indulge him. 

Being a hedonist, Jack loves many sexual pursuits - immensely. He loves being blown, warm lips and a wet mouth hollowed out around his cock; he loves being on his knees, face buried in someone’s pussy or arse or a cock shoved deep down his throat. He loves fucking, his cock squeezed tightly by a hole, someone moving on top or underneath him. He loves reducing his partners to incoherent needy messes; he loves being reduced to an incoherent needy mess himself. And most importantly, as much as he loves being fucked, he loves being _filled_ more. 

Jack is an equal opportunist; he tops, bottoms, switches, is a dom, is a sub, etcetera, but there’s nothing like a long, thick cock, real or plastic - Jack doesn’t discriminate, splitting him open, _stuffing him_ , as he bears down on it. He loves being stretched open and filled to the point of unbearable cramping; he loves the tip of the cock bumping against his prostate with each thrust or twitch of his hips. He even loves the feeling afterwards, the _aching_ emptiness, the stretch of his walls reminding him of how full he’d felt; he loves limping around after a good fucking, with his body still remembering the sense memory of his incredible night of pleasure.

So yeah, Jack is a hedonist, and Ianto loves indulging him.

* * *

“I don’t say this often,” pants Jack as he squeezes his eyes shut, sweat trickling down his forehead, knees curled underneath him as tightly as they can. He pushes his face into the silky sheets, breathing in short, shallow whines and whimpers. He feels _impossibly_ split open by the sizable dildo Ianto’s slowly working into him; it’s not even half-way into him, and the tip is already pressing relentlessly against his prostate, causing colorful sparks to explode permanently behind his eyes. “But I don’t think I can do this.”

Ianto makes a soft noise of amusement. “Really? Jack Harkness, the impossible man who loves impossible challenges, defeated by a plastic cock?” There’s a pause in which Jack’s pleasure-hazen mind can picture him raising his signature eyebrow. “I never thought this day would come.”

“ _Ianto_ ,” Jack whines as the cock is inched even further inside of him. His walls flutter uncontrollably, and he tries to ground himself by clenching down, but _there is just too much_ . “Ianto. I can’t, I seriously can’t. It’s just _too big_ . I...Ianto, _please_.” His pleas break off into desperate whimpers as Ianto forces just a bit more inside of him. 

“You can’t take it?” repeats Ianto quietly, words and voice steely. “I didn’t know that was _your_ decision to make, Jack.” He reaches around to give Jack’s cock a sharp, almost painful tug, and Jack howls. “Is it? Did I waste my time opening you up, giving you my entire hand?”

“I’m sorry, Ianto,” he gasps. “Ianto, no, no.” And as the cock _moves_ , pushing further, and he feels himself burn from the stretch, something in Jack’s mind falls into place with a click. Calm blankets him as he drops into that quiet place where it’s just him alone with the sensations Ianto’s wringing from his body, with the pleasure that Ianto’s graciously providing him. “No, _sir_ , you didn’t. Thank you, thank you. I can take it.” He breathes raggedly. “ _I can take it for you_.”

“Good,” Ianto tells him, humming with approval. He reaches over, rubs the sensitive skin above Jack’s hip, and watches his back arch just the slightest bit more. “I promise you, Jack, it feels much larger than it actually is; you’re doing good, _so good_. You’ve almost taken all of it inside you. Just a little bit more.” 

“ _Ianto_ ,” Jack mewls, pushing his arse into the air, emboldened by Ianto’s words. The dildo is only bumped further inside of him; it feels so deep and thick inside him, he thinks he could choke on the plastic cock. 

“You look obscene,” Ianto says casually. He traces a finger around Jack’s rim, stretched wide and bloodless along the toy, and smiles as Jack shivers. “Your tight little hole stretched out so wide and gaping around the largest dildo I’ve ever seen. I wish you could see yourself, whining and desperate. You love having your hole stuffed, don’t you?” When Jack’s face only presses further into the sheets, Ianto lightly swats the perfect curve of his left arsecheek. “Answer me, Jack.”

Jack nods urgently, gasping as Ianto twists the cock only slightly. The pressure against his prostate doesn’t ease; he thinks he’s going to have the white sparks of pleasure permanently seared across the darkness of his vision. “Yes, sir. I do. I love being _filled_.” Ianto’s fingers tighten around the sharp jut of his hip. “I love...I love your cock.”

Ianto clicks his tongue. “You become so wanton when you have a cock inside you; you lose all sense of coherence.” He leans closer to the bed, looming over Jack, and presses a gente kiss between Jack’s shoulder blades; Jack nearly collapses completely into the bed at the unexpected yet relished touch. His voice drops to a whisper. “What would happen if our team was to see their captain like this? If I spread you out on the table in the boardroom and stuffed this dildo up your arse?”

“No, no,” Jack moans, but his cries are enthusiastic. His mind is malleable and vulnerable to Ianto’s words; he can imagine it, Tosh’s raised eyebrows and dropped mouth, Owen narrow-eyed and scowling, Gwen’s large doe eyes widened beyond belief. They would be shocked and reluctant at first.

“Yes,” Ianto murmurs in agreement, and Jack abruptly realizes he’s been babbling aloud. “They would be. But then they’d see, see how prettily you beg, the way you _sound_ , and they’d understand. The way you keen for me to fuck you, for my cock, Captain Jack Harkness driven desperate for a Welsh twentysomething’s cock.”

The little part of Jack’s mind that can still string together thoughts would realize the significance of Ianto’s last statement, would understand the pained longing in his voice, but Jack has long since been reduced to the sensation of the pressure inside of him, splitting him apart. He huffs into the pillow. 

“ _It hurts_ , _Ianto_ ,” he whines, hands aching from how long they’ve been curled into fists by his side. 

“Shhh,” Ianto replies soothingly. “You can do it. You can take it, _for me_.”

“Yes, _for you_.” Jack nods enthusiastically, arching into Ianto’s touch as the other man begins to rub along his back. “Anything for you.”

He would give Ianto the entire universe if only Ianto asked. But Ianto will never ask.

“A few more inches,” Ianto purrs directly into Jack’s ear, and Jack shivers as he feels Ianto’s breath across the sensitive rim of his ear. Slowly, he leans forward, really pressing the dildo into Jack, and there’s a quiet squelch as Jack’s stubborn hole finally gives way, swallowing the widest bulge of the dildo before coming back to furl together. Ianto inhales sharply, likely at the sight. “You’ve taken all of it now, Jack.” He strokes tenderly along Jack’s damp hairline. “You’re full. Do you feel it? You did it for me. Good boy; you’ve made your sir proud.”

Jack _keens_ , his walls feebly fluttering around the dildo; he’s just a bunch of raw nerves endings and a live wire of pleasure now. Every dance of Ianto’s fingers across his skin sets him aflame, a tiny spark amongst the sea of the calmness the world around him has become. He feels the _incredible_ pressure stretching his hole and insides apart, but he’s not really aware of it; it has become a part of him. There is just the calm, just calm and Ianto’s voice. 

Ianto’s crooning right now, those delicious Welsh vowels almost agony for Jack to hear: “...so bloody sexy. This might be the hottest you’ve ever looked. I’m a _selfish_ man. I don’t know if I can share you with the team, Jack; I don’t know if I can share you with the world. ” His voice wavers slightly. Then he clicks his tongue. “No, this is all for me. _You_ are all for me.” He inhales sharply again. “No one else gets to see you like this. No one but _me_.”

If Jack is making any sounds in response to Ianto’s filthy, _filthy_ words, he can’t hear them; he’s too busy drooling incoherently into the pillow. 

All of a sudden: “I’m going to turn you over, Jack. You make such a pretty picture for me, back arched, arse in the air, hole stretched smooth by the rim of the toy, but I’m a hedonist. I want to enjoy the view from all angles.”

The next few minutes are unbearable for Jack as Ianto gently rolls him onto his side and then onto his back, the cock inside him shifting and pressing _everywhere_. Jack lays flat on his bed, the angle forcing the cock to increase its relentless torment on his prostate, his mouth permanently fixed into a gape of pleasure. As a jolt of cool air from his bunker hits his sweaty face, he is jared slightly from his haze, regaining a bit of consciousness. 

“ _Ianto_ ,” he gasps with the most awareness he’s shown in hours. “Ianto Jones, I don’t deserve you.” It’s candid despite the slurring of his words; it’s the truth, wrenched deep from the place where Jack Harkness buries the realities he cannot face, where Javic Thane is entombed.

With his vision clear of the dark silk sheets of his bed, he is finally able to see Ianto’s face, see the slack mouth, darkened eyes, the way Ianto’s expression shifts minutely when Jack speaks. Briefly, Jack is taken aback by the reverence he sees in Ianto’s eyes, the same reverence he sees when his cock is buried deep inside Ianto or Ianto is on his knees, his mouth between Jack’s legs. Then everything shifts, and that reverence is hidden again under the lust.

Ianto’s pouty lips curl into a cruel smirk, and Jack unconsciously moans. “Oh, Jack,” begins Ianto, fingers flicking across Jack’s weeping cock, the other man arching into the touch. “I thought you’d learned your lesson. _I_ decide what you deserve, not you.” A moment later: “Look at your stomach, Jack.”

Jack does. He sees the distended bulge of his stomach where the dildo presses, warping his skin, reminding him of its remarkable size, of how he’s taken the entirety of the toy _inside him_. Jack moans again, head thrown back against the pillows. His arms are slack besides him, fingers fluttering uselessly. He has nothing to grasp onto, nothing to ground his desperation. “Oh, fuck. Fuuuuuuck.”

“Oh, fuck, indeed,” Ianto quips with his usual witty grin. His hands come to rest lightly at Jack’s shoulders, then run along either side of Jack’s sensitive ribs, ghosting and brushing, sending sparks exploding up and down Jack’s spine. But Ianto’s not done yet. 

Slowly, he brings his hand to cup the bulge in Jack’s stomach, squeezing and teasing before he _presses_ down, and in between his incoherent whimpers and mewls, Jack musters a bit of sympathy for his abused prostate. But it’s not much. He’s floating on a cloud miles high above his bunker; despite the cruel state of his cock, his body hasn’t felt this tranquil in years.

“Can you feel it, Jack?” asks the other man. “Can you feel the cock inside you? It’s pressed so nice and deep, as deep as it’ll go? You astound me; what we can coax your body to open up to and accept astounds me.” He rubs the bulge, and Jack’s eyes widen as he feels the cock shift inside him again. “You did it all for me, did it all for your sir. I’m proud of you. You deserve this.” He smiles. “I can feel the cock inside you against your skin. You must feel so nice and _full_.” When Jack’s head lolls against the pillows, Ianto nudges him. “Answer me, Jack, answer your sir. Do you feel nice and full?”

“Yes, sir,” Jack slurs. “I love…” His words trail off, and he gazes up at the concrete ceiling, clearly very spacey and pleasure-blurred. 

Ianto chuckles warmly. “Good boy. Can’t even form two syllables from how good you feel, but you’re trying nonetheless. I’m proud of you.” His smile widens as Jack again arches into his touch. Then he drops his voice to a conspiratorial whisper: “Did you know that this is only the beginning? I bought another surprise when I purchased this toy. The surprise is special. It’s another plastic cock, only slightly smaller, but this one comes with a specific attachment. I’ll be able to pump lube inside you. Imagine how your stomach will bulge even more when we fill you up, imagine how _full_ you’ll feel, all that incredible pressure inside you, your stomach close to cramping. _Just imagine_. And it will all be for you; I will do it all only for you.”

“ _Hurts_. Wanna come,” begs Jack, panting, skin covered in a little sheen of fresh sweat. His eyes keep flickering between the bulge of his stomach and Ianto’s smirk. “Need to come.” His body is straddling the fine line between where it sings in dual agony and pleasure.

“You have done so good for me,” Ianto agrees, hands flexing inches away from Jack’s aching cock. Jack is too hazy to even react. “I think you deserve to come.” His words take on a note of steel. “Come for me, Jack. Come for me, untouched, without a single hand on your cock.”

A long high-pitched moan rips from Jack’s throat, and the world washes out around him as he blacks out. He’s barely aware of his cock shooting thick ropes of release onto his stomach and the sheet. He thinks he might have howled Ianto’s name, but he can’t be too sure. 

When he stirs again, he’s immediately aware of the _aching_ emptiness inside him; Ianto has since pulled the plastic cock out and set it on the bed beside him. Jack clenches down unhappily, whining, hovering on the brink of consciousness, which Ianto can see.

“Sleep,” he orders amusedly. “I don’t know how you’re still awake. Sleep, Jack. I’ll take care of you.” He brushes a warm hand across Jack’s forehead, presses a kiss to Jack’s collarbone. “I’ve got you now, Jack. Just rest.”

It’s easy to embrace the seductive darkness with Ianto by his side. Jack thinks he could brave anything with Ianto by his side. As long as Ianto stays by his side.

* * *

So Jack Harkness is a hedonist, and Ianto Jones enjoys being useful.

As long as he serves his partner well, Ianto doesn’t care how he ends up. He used to spend hours on his knees, face buried in Lisa’s pussy. Now, he does the same for Jack, lips wrapped around the other man’s cock or tongue deep in his arse. As long as his partner is moaning and squirming in pleasure, Ianto feels fulfilled, feels useful.

Owen might mock him, might think that Ianto is subjecting himself to a submissive life, but Ianto knows that’s not what his kink entails. He can be completely useful for Jack fucking the living daylights out of him or running hot candle wax down his chest. He can also be completely useful for Jack with their positions reversed, with Jack ordering Ianto to ride his cock until he sobs or to wear coiled nipple clamps.

Ianto Jones would give anything for Jack. The moon, the stars, the sun. Anything for Jack.

The thing about Ianto is he enjoys being useful and he enjoys being devoted. And his loyalty runs deep. It could be seen with Lisa; it can be seen with Jack.

So Jack is a hedonist, and Ianto is devoted. So long as they use each other, and use each other well, they’re a match made to balance out the universe.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr [here](http://princess-of-the-worlds.tumblr.com/) or on Twitter [here](https://twitter.com/rajkumarinik) to let me know how much you liked this fic or request a prompt. Also, please comment or drop a line below. And maybe, just maybe, try reading one of my other works? It's not all just porn. I promise.


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